


Starfighter: Release

by Myshka (eigogawakarimasen), orphan_account



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Feels, Friendship, Grief, Last wish, M/M, Post War, Road Trip, but also good feels, later on probably some goodbye sex, sad feels, sorry for all those depressing tags :(, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eigogawakarimasen/pseuds/Myshka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You stupid little slut!” I exclaim through gritted teeth and shove Aleks against the wall. I hear a hollow thump when his head connects with the concrete.</p>
<p>"Fuck, Sacha,” I hear Ethan groan, feel his hands on my arms. The next instant, bright light floods the small entry hall. For a brief moment, I’m stunned into immobility. Then I abruptly let go of the Aleks’ collar, backing off, almost stumbling into Ethan.</p>
<p>“What the hell …?!”</p>
<p>My eyes rake over Aleks hollow features, his stick-thin frame. He’s always been too skinny, too delicate looking for his own fucking good. A little mouse, with claws like knives and a core of steel. But he’s never looked like that. Not this ghostly pale, this gaunt ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸,ø¤º° O N C E °º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø 

~ (Sacha’s POV) ~

„Geez! Don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re going.” With a deep sigh Ethan runs his finger down my chest, straightening the fabric of my plain white shirt with his palms. “I bet you’d look twice as sexy if you wore that tie my Mom gave you last Christmas.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “Don’t try to change subject, Princess. I’m dead-serious about this.”

“Same here,” Ethan sighs again. It’s a discussion he’d rather not have. And, fuck, neither do I. I wish he’d just stop nagging me about it, but then I already know he won’t. If he wants to, he can be really fucking stubborn. Guess, he’s had a good teacher in me. Says: “Listen, Sacha, it’s been – what? Seven months? Eight? – since you last saw Aleks. He’s your closest friend and I know you’ve been missing him, no matter how hard you try to pretend you were not.”

“The fuck he is!” I scowl at him, really pissed off now. Frankly, it’s not him I’m mad at. Probably shouldn’t be taking it out on him then. But he’s the only target available, and after all it’s his own fucking fault if he always has to meddle with things that are none of his fucking business. I almost yell at him: “Not a single word from him in _nine_ months! Didn’t pick up his phone. Didn’t answer my messages. I tell you what, Ethan: A friend doesn’t abandon you like that and then invites you to a fucking cocktail party! A _cocktail party_ , for fuck’s sake! As if he’s ever been into fancy shit like that!”

“Guess that’s been Keel… Hector’s idea.”

“Fucking Keeler!” I can’t help but pout a bit, when I flop down onto the mattress. Always hated the way Keeler looked at Ethan. Like he deserved better than colonial gypsy trash like me – which is true. Never figured what Ethan sees in me anyways. Don’t now why he sticks around. Am fucking glad he does. Guess, I’m just a lucky bastard; not going to complain. “Didn’t know Aleks and he even were this close,” I ramble on. “Back on the Sleipnir they rarely ever spoke a word with each other.”

“So, that’s your problem, eh?” Ethan grins. “You’re jealous!”

“ _Blyat_ , Ethan”, I mutter under my breath. Glaring daggers at him now. “I’m _not_ jealous!”

“Yes, you are. You’ve always been kinda possessive, Sacha. Not only towards me, but also Aleks – if maybe to a little lesser extent.”

Snarling I run a hand through my hair. Try to act indifferent. I sure as fuck won’t admit that he actually is right. It’s such a petty thing and I know it. Makes me feel stupid and weak all over. Fucking hate it. Don’t want to talk about it, so I keep my mouth shut for once.

Don’t expect Ethan to give in easily, and, nope, he doesn’t. “C’mon, Baby,” he says, straddling me, leaning forward to give me a quick peck. And it’s fucking unfair, because he knows perfectly well that I can’t deny him if he’s being goddamn sweet like that. “Play nice, just for once, okay? If you don’t want to do it for Aleks, do it for me.”

Looking up into Ethan’s pleading puppy eyes, a deep growl escapes my throat. “But I’m not going to wear that stupid tie,” I exclaim. What a fucking stupid thing to say, and we both know it. But Ethan just smiles a content little smile that makes me growl once more – this time in utter defeat. 

*

When I left Colony Five, nothing more but a scrawny fifteen-years-old, I promised myself to never ever, ever, _ever_ come back. Aleks and I made it past the recruiter with a fake ID’s and a little extra-persuasion down on our knees – cause why the fuck not? Been used to give head for a hell of a lot of reasons worse than that. Like a goddamn roof over our heads at night or something to keep us both from starving.

Always been shitty at keeping promises, so it’s no sur-fucking-prise that I ended up right here again after being sacked from Fleet. No need for fighters anymore. Only good at killing shit in space and nothing more. So it’s: Hello again. Home, sweet home. Missed you loads. Fuck it.

At least Ethan’s got himself an acceptable reassignment. Some soft office job; navigator stuff, whatever that means. I don’t really care as long as he gets paid enough so we can afford a flat in a rather decent part of town. Didn’t know until now that Keeler lives sort of right around the corner. Don’t like it. Don’t like it at all.

The apartment block is situated in The Crescent, one of the more expensive districts of Colony Five. It’s rather new with huge balconies and shimmering glass fronts, reflecting the orange glow of the slowly setting sun. Trees and patches of flowers are lining the streets. Everything is clean and tidy and pretty, nothing like the slums Aleks and I grew up in.

Shithole’s officially called The Hollow, but to those poor bastards who have to scrape a living there, it’s better known as The Shambles. Describes the place pretty fucking accurately. The majority of people die from cancer before they turn forty. Fucking mining companies don’t care enough for their workers to equip them with proper security gear. Only lowlife colonials after all. Not worth the money and the trouble. Bastards.

My parents took the easy way out when I was thirteen, my sister Natasha ten. Got blasted in a mining accident. Dead before they even fucking knew what’d happened.

Put Tasha and me in separate foster families, the fuck knew why. Stayed in mine for two days precisely. Took me that long to figure out my foster father was a fucking pedophile. Chose a life on the street over taking it up the ass from that filthy old scumbag.

Shortly after that, I met Aleks …

Chase the memories away. Don’t like to think about it. Life’s different now, thanks to Ethan. Even if I’d rather bite off my tongue than confess it to him, he’s probably saved me in more than just one fucking way.

Ethan pulls the car to the kerb, turns off the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. I don’t move. I want to but can’t. Feels like my ass is rooted to the fucking seat.

“You nervous?” Ethan asks softly.

I shake my head. It’s not like that. Not entirely. I just know, something’s wrong. Horribly wrong. Can’t quite lay my fingers on it, but it’s there. A foreboding maybe. Makes me want to turn around and forget about this bloody cocktail party. Forget about Aleks.

But – fuck! – I can’t do that either.

Ethan’s been right. Again. No matter what, Aleks still _is_ my friend. And I’ve been more worried about him, than I’d ever admit. I can’t stand that guy – Mikail – Aleks had ended up with after he resigned from Fleet. I know a rabid dog when I meet one. Son of a bitch isn’t good enough for Aleks. Is bound to treat him just the way I have – and Aleks deserves so much better than that.

With a sigh I unbuckle eventually. “Fuck!” I mutter under my breath. “Let’s go before I change my mind again …” 

*

 A lift brings us up to the topmost apartment. When it comes to a halt, I feel my heart hammering against my chest like a little bird, desperately trying to escape from its cage. I glare at the doors, when they slide open with a swoosh.

“Are you okay, Baby?” Ethan reaches out and gently touches my wrist in a reassuring way.

“Suck it up, Princess,” I snap at him, stepping out of the narrow cubicle. “I’m fine.”

It’s a lie and we both know it. Nothing’s okay. Not at all. But I’m the goddamn fighter. Need to be strong for my navigator; of no fucking use for nothing if I can’t even do that. But it’s hard. So much harder than I expected it to be. Fuck, I wish I could just get us stuck in a fucking tin box again, shooting aliens in space. Things had been so much easier than they are now. No frequent talking about stupid feelings. But there’s no going back. If I want to make this work, I need to make concessions, whether I like it or not.

It’s Encke who answers the door. He narrows his eyes at the sight of me, his brows furrowing. It’s pretty damn obvious he’s not at all pleased to see me. Fuck it, neither am I.

Remaining utterly silent, Encke uses his massive frame to block the doorway, staring at me in a way that makes me feel like his pale eyes are seeing right through me. Don’t like it. Should be used to it by now, though. Big bastard’s always been able to make me feel all bare and naked. I try to cover my anxiety with a snarl.

“Reliant,” he growls eventually. “Guess, I should’ve seen this coming, when Hector told me he was going to invite all of Aleks’ friends …”

For Ethan’s sake I swallow the sharp reply that burns on the tip of my tongue. And then Keeler appears from behind, shoving Encke aside gently but firmly, waving us inside with a genuine smile.

“Ethan, Sacha!” He reaches for his long blond braid and drapes it over his right shoulder. Keeler’s always been hot shit. Just the right mix of fragile and tough, shy and bold. He leans heavily into Encke, who is still standing next to the door, glaring. “I’m so glad you could make it. Aleks didn’t say anything, but I could sense he’s been nervous. To be honest, I don’t believe he expected you two to show up tonight.”

I grit my teeth. Little shit’s always been able to predict me like no one else could – not even Ethan. Probably, because we kind of grew up together. Because nobody knows me the way Aleks does.

It makes me so fucking angry, that I feel the sudden urge to punch something. Want to feel my knuckles break open. Want the pain, want it to take away some of the white heat raging inside my guts.

Fuck!

“We’d better not disappoint him, then,” I say, voice tight, turning around to leave. Fuck all this bullshit.

“Sacha, please …!”

I startle, when I feels a hand weighing down on my shoulder. Without even looking, I knows it’s Keeler’s. My whole body goes rigid, until I feel like a violin’s string on the verge of snapping.

“Please, don’t leave”, Keeler says. “It would mean so much to him …”

“He always knew where to find me.”

“Can you not do that for once, Reliant?” Encke snarls, earning a sharp hiss from Keeler.

I turn around, once more locking my eyes with Encke’s. “Can I not do – _what_?”

“Act like a total asshole, for fuck’s sake! Ever thought that Aleks might have had his reasons? Reasons even a simple mind like you could possibly understand if you just gave him a chance to explain?”

I fucking waver, a part of me still wanting to leave without looking back. Fuck Encke and Keeler. Fuck Aleks. Fuck his reasons. But when I turn around again, this time to leave for good, I hear a hoarse raspy whisper and stop short.

_“Sacha, bitte bleib …”_

“Sacha, please don’t go …”

*

I close my eyes and swallow hard. Once. Twice.

What the fuck am I even doing here? I never should’ve allowed Ethan to talk me into this in the first place. I don’t want to see Aleks. Don’t want to listen to his cheap excuses. I’ve done fucking awesome, ever since I’ve accepted the fact that my oldest friend has discarded me like some old jacket that’s no longer of any use.

_As if you’ve ever treated him any better …_

My hands clench into fists. Again I feels the urge to punch something.

Some _one_.

I whirl around, close the distance to the shadowy figure in the narrow hallway with three steps and catch Aleks by the collar of his shirt.

The little shit goes completely limp. Doesn’t even try to fight back. If possible that makes me even more furious.

“You stupid little slut!” I exclaim through gritted teeth and shove Aleks against the wall. I hear a hollow _thump_ when his head connects with the concrete.

“Fuck, Sacha,” I hear Ethan groan, feel his hands on my arms. The next instant, bright light floods the small entry hall. For a brief moment, I’m stunned into immobility. Then I abruptly let go of the Aleks’ collar, backing off, almost stumbling into Ethan.

_“Was zur Hölle …?!”_

 “What the hell …?!”

My eyes rake over Aleks hollow features, his stick-thin frame. He’s always been too skinny, too delicate looking for his own fucking good. A little mouse, with claws like knives and a core of steel. But he’s never looked like that. Not this ghostly pale, this gaunt.

That moment I know I’ve been right: Something _is_ wrong. It takes me a couple of seconds to figure out what’s disturbing me most. Only then do I realize the knitted hat Aleks is wearing. It’s covering a good part of his head, hiding most of his hair, except for those stupid sleek black bangs falling over the upper left side of his face like a fucking veil.

I don’t so much as speak a word or move a single goddamn muscle, but somehow the question must’ve shown on my face, because Aleks raises a hand and slowly removes the hat from his head.

It hits me like a fucking kick in the guts and I suck in a sharp breath.

Short stubbles cover Aleks’ scalp on the right side of his skull. Underneath I can see the fierce red glow of relatively fresh scar-tissue shimmering through. It’s not the kind of wound he would’ve achieved in a bar fight or a backstreet brawl. No, it looks far too symmetrical for that.

More surgical.

Aleks just fucking looks at me, his expression almost giving nothing away. At least not for anyone who isn’t me. Only I notice that nervous flicker in his soft grey eyes, the quick twitch of the corners of his mouth. Aleks is scared – but not of me, even if he has all reasons to be, after what I’ve just done. It makes me remember the frightened little brat of so many years ago. A boy of twelve that I’ve had almost gotten myself fucking killed for in the crossfire of two rivaling gangs.

_“Verdammte Scheiße, was hat das zu bedeuten?”_ I growl in Aleks’ mother tongue, but I realize myself that my voice lacks its usual vigor.

“The fuck does that mean?”

_“Nichts,”_ Aleks whispers, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Ich werde sterben, das ist alles.”

“Nothing. I’m just going to die, that’s all.” 

Then, all of a sudden, a strangled sigh escapes his lips and his eyes roll back into his head.

Instinctively I jump forward and catch the fragile body, before it can crumple to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is rather short and - of course - unbeta'd :)

ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸,ø¤º° A L I V E °º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø 

~ (Aleks’ POV) ~

There is light.

Then, there isn’t.

Voices come and go like tides.

Too loud.

Everything’s so painful.

I’m falling.

Falling.

Drowning.

My head hurts so fucking bad.

It feels like it’s being beaten with a hammer.

And I’m cold. So cold.

_“Aleks? Aleks, Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße! Kannst du mich hören?“_

    „Aleks?  Aleks, shit, shit, shit! Can you hear me?“

That voice is so familiar. So warm and comforting despite of its panicky edge.

I try to open my eyes and moan against the blinding brightness surrounding me.

 “Switch off the fucking lights for god’s sake!” the voice growls. Then it’s dark again and the bright white agony between my temples reduces to a dull throbbing.

Still painful, but bearable.

 “Saaaah …”

The broken sound of my own voice makes me whimper.

Something wraps around my hand.

Calloused fingers.

 _“Schhh, Myshonok, still._ _Nicht sprechen. Alles wird wieder gut. Alles wird wieder …“_

     „Shhh, Myshonok, hush.  Don’t try to speak. Everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be …”

*

When I regain consciousness, darkness embraces me. It takes me a moment to realize that I’m lying in my bed.

 _My_ bed? No. There’s no such thing as _mine_ anymore. It’s Keeler and Encke’s. Their bed. Their guest room. Their apartment.

I squeeze my eyes shut, when I feel that now almost familiar pain flaring up in my skull. My limbs are heavy, my muscles feel sore. A raspy groan slips past my lips, when I sit up and a wave of nausea washes over me.

_Atmen …. Atmen … Tief durchatmen …_

     Breathe …  Breathe … Take a deep breath …

Slowly, very slowly, the dizziness ebbs away, and when my heart pounds a little less violently I dare try if my legs will carry me.

They do, though my stupid knees feel like jelly and the room starts to spin around me the moment I get up. My fingers grasp at the door’s frame and I close my eyes and waits for the vertigo to subside. When I open them again, the floor still seems to sway slightly, but I feel a little better. Good enough at least, to dare loosen the death grip on the door case and step into the dim lit flat.

The party is over, but not all guests have left. I can hear hushed voices from the other end of the corridor – one of them Sacha’s. My heart skips a beat. It’s been months that I last talked to him. I didn’t try to contact him after … after I found out. Don’t know why I hesitated. Probably didn’t want his pity. Didn’t want him to feel obliged to care for me. Told myself I could do this without him. Guess, I was wrong.

I hear Sacha snarl: “What the fuck is wrong with him? And don’t you dare tell me that you don’t know!”

“Shhh.” That’s Keeler. “Please, Sacha, I get that you’re upset. And I promise that I’m going to tell you everything I know. But you have to calm down, okay? Aleks really needs to rest.”

“Goddamn it,” Sacha mutters under his breath and I can’t help but smile weakly.

I missed him so much, it almost takes my breath away. Don’t know what’d gotten into me to think that I could ever get over him. It doesn’t hurt as bad as it did anymore. I Know he loves Ethan. And I’m glad he found someone who make him happy. Hate it at the same time. Part of me still wishes, he’d love me instead. His little mouse, quiet and broken. Found and saved me, so many years ago. Picked up the shattered pieces and tried to make me whole again. Never really been whole ever since. Love him for trying to fix me anyways. He’s a good person when it comes down to it. Believe, he never meant to make me feel miserable. Did it anyway, but I can’t really blame him. It’s not as if he ever promised me anything. My own fault, broken in so many ways that I didn’t think I could break any further …

I push off from the wall, manage to half walk, half stumble over to the other side of the hallway. Make out four people in the living room; Keeler sitting next to Ethan on the off white leather sofa, Encke leaning against the glass of the French window and Sacha, who’s pacing the room up and down restlessly.

“We met him a couple of weeks ago,” Keeler starts to explain, earning himself a snort from Encke.

I know why.

It’s not exactly how things had been that night.

I’d been more dead than alive, when Encke and Keeler found me in the back alley behind a club, couples sometimes used for a more private place to make out. Most of them didn’t even notice the small, quiet bundle covered in rags that scarcely protected me from the biting cold. But that night I’d been tormented by a racking cough that threatened to tear my chest in two. I couldn’t have kept quiet if my life had depended on it.

Suddenly there had been someone next to me, pressing the palm of a hand against my forehead. Then I’d heard a strangely familiar voice whispering: “He’s burning from the inside, James. I … Oh my god, James, look! Isn’t this …?”

“Holy Fuck, you’re right, it’s Equinox!” There’d been hands on my shoulders, shaking me ever so slightly. “Deimos? Shit, baby, can you hear me?”

A coughing fit had made it impossible for me to answer. And then I’d felt strong arms picking me up, lifting me like I weighed nothing – which probably wasn’t far from the truth. At that point I’d been sleeping rough for almost three months, having had to fight for what little I found to eat in overflowing trash bins with starving dogs.

In a way it’d been a miracle, Keeler recognized me in the dim light of the alley. I blacked out before Encke had even carried me to their car. When I woke up I’d found myself in a cosy room, enveloped by warmth and light, feeling something approaching human for the first time in weeks.

Keeler had been sitting at my bedside, his usually braided hair falling loosely over his shoulders. That moment he’d looked like an angel to me, all nice and soft and pretty.

Thought, that I might be dead and in heaven and told him that. Remember the small smile that had spread on Keeler’s lips, easing up the worried look on his face. “No, Sleepyhead,” he’d answered, tears welling in his beautiful blue eyes. “You’re with us now.”

And I stayed with them.

Didn’t even bother to try and contact Mikail, who’d beaten the crap out of me once I found the courage to tell him about my diagnosis. Knew he’d take it badly from the start. Don’t know why I didn’t walk out on him right away. Left that very night. Think, I only ever stayed with him for so long, because I was scared to be alone. Didn’t hurt to leave him behind. Always told me he loved me, but never acted like it. Doesn’t really matter, because I never really loved him either. He’d been a poor substitute for the one man I ever truly loved. The one man, that would never belong to me.

Sacha is Ethan’s, even a blind man can see. It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore. I’m just a grey little mouse, shattered in so many ways, I can’t remember to ever have been whole. I’m sharp and bitter where Ethan is soft and sweet. Yet, Sacha’s here now. So he does care. Maybe not in the way I’d always hoped he would one day, but probably more than anybody else had ever cared about me.

“What was all that bullshit about dying about?” I hears Sacha growl, realising that I’ve missed a whole part of the conversation going on in the living room.

“He’s ill, Sacha,” Keeler answers hesitantly. “Very seriously ill, I’m afraid.”

“Then why’s he not in the fucking hospital to get a treatment?”

Keeler sighs. “Because there is no such treatment.”

“What?” Sacha stops short and glares at Keeler. “The fuck, he’s twenty-seven! There’s no way he’s going to die! No!” With a sharp breath he rakes through his hair with both hands, leaving it messed up thoroughly. “Fuck, no! No!”

Ethan stands from the couch, winding his arms around Sacha’s hips, resting his forehead against Sacha’s chest. Sacha lets out a shuddery breath, closes his eyes and nuzzles his face into Ethan’s soft blond hair.

“How long?” he asks after a long moment of silence.

“Six months if he’s lucky,” Keeler says in a low voice. “It’s a brain tumour. Inoperable. The specialist we consulted tried to remove it once, but Aleks nearly died during the surgery.” He shakes his head. “I’m really sorry, Sacha.”

“No,” Sacha exclaims. “There’s gotta be something we can do! I don’t give a fuck what your goddamn specialist said! He’s wrong! He’s got to be wrong! There’s no fucking way I’m gonna let Aleks die!” His voice wavers like he’s fighting back tears. He shoves Ethan away, not in a crude way, but not exactly gentle either.

I take a deep breath. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreading so much. It’s probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my whole life, when I push away from the door frame and step into the dim-lit living room.

 _“Hector hat recht, Sacha.“_ A broken little whisper, coarse and sharp like shattered glass. The ruins of my voice ever since the day Sacha and I first met. _“Aber wenn du wirklich etwas für mich tun willst …”_

      “Hector’s right, Sacha.  But if you really want to do something for me …”


	3. Chapter 3

ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸,ø¤º°  R E A R V I E W   M I R R O R  °º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø 

(Sacha’s POV)

 

We barely make it into our apartment before I’m all over Ethan. The keys he’s opened the door with clatter to the hardwood floor when I grip his hips and shove him to the wall. Grinding my thigh into Ethan’s crotch, I invade his mouth with my tongue, swallowing his breathy little moans like liquid honey.

Ethan’s hard already. Begging for it with the way he whimpers and presses our bodies together. Always so fucking easy. So fucking needy. Just like …

_Fuck no!_

I deepen our kiss, desperately locking my lips with Ethan’s until he draws away.

“Hmmm … Sacha ...”

He’s panting against my ear, his hot breath almost driving me insane. And it’s all I need to shut out the thought of the other skinny guy. The one with the broken voice and that huge scar disfiguring the side of his skull …

“Fuck!”

I free myself from Ethan’s embrace and take a couple of steps back, panting hard. Feel Ethan watching me, eyes wide with concern. Glare at him, shake off his hand when he reaches out to touch.

“Don’t!” I hiss. Looks as me as if I’ve hit him. Hurt his stupid navigator feelings. I take a deep breath. “Please …” Saying sorry without actually saying sorry. The closest to fucking apologizing I’ll ever get. He’d better settle for it.

Ethan smiles. “It’s fine, Sacha. I … Do you want to talk about it?”

Shake my head. “No, I … Let’s just go to bed, okay? I’m fucking tired.”

“Don’t you think we should at least …” Ethan sighs. “You know …”

He’s clearly uncomfortable. Course he is. It’s a fucked-up situation. The favor Aleks has asked of us is hovering in the air like a thick black cloud. “I mean,” Ethan carries on speaking. “I can understand if you want to go. After all it’s kind of like Aleks’ last wish and Hector said there’s going to be taken care of everything. I just …”

“Leave it,” I interrupt him with a scowl. “I said I don’t wanna discuss this now! I’m going to bed.”

Later, when we’re both lying on our large futon, I’m staring at the ceiling with eyes wide open, unable to calm down. I can hear Ethan’s soft breathing next to me and envy him his ability to sleep. Every time I close my eyes I can’t help but think of Aleks. Don’t want to face the possibility of losing him. The idea of it alone unbearable. Yet, I know it’s true. I could see it in Aleks’ eyes; the acceptance of the inevitable. The determination to set things right before it happens.

But how’s a fucking trip to Earth supposed to make up for anything?

That’s what Aleks has asked of us. To come to Earth on a fucking road-trip with him. Stupid lil shit told us, he wants to see the ocean just once before he dies. Has always been ridiculously fond of it since he’s first seen it on an edu-vid. Nothing even remotely comparable on Mars; just a fucking red rock floating in space with water only available through large hydrogen-oxygen fusion plants outside the vast climate control domes that make human life on Mars possible in the first place.

I’ve already seen the ocean. Been to Earth with Ethan a couple of times after we’ve gotten discharged from Fleet. Didn’t find it all that spectacular. A hell of a lot of bluish-grey water, cold as fuck. Never quite figured out what Aleks was so excited about.

Ethan’s stirring beside me, murmurs something unintelligible in his sleep. I roll over to my side, sneak my arm around his waist and burrow my face in his soft blond hair. Ethan smells of warmth and sunshine. Holding him finally soothes me a bit. I close my eyes and slowly drift into sleep.

 

*

 

_The fat grey rat disappears into a crack in the wall of the run-down factory building, wiggling its tail as if to mock me._

_“Fuck!”, I spit, frantically trying to fight back the hot tears of despair and frustration that threaten to fill my eyes._

_I won’t cry!_

_I won’t fucking cry!_

_Not having eaten anything half-way decent for days I feel slightly light-headed, and my stomach seems to have shriveled into a tight, painful knot. It’s been more than a week since I’ve run away from that family they’d put me into. My foster father giving me strange looks, trying to feel me up when he thought nobody was watching. Wasn’t going to let it happen. If I have to get on my hands and knees, I’ll at least do it on my own account. And sure as fuck I will have to, sooner or later, if I don’t find any other way to keep myself from starving._

_But not just yet._

_If only I could find that goddamn rat, break its neck and roast the fat thing on an open fire, it’d help me to get over another couple of days. Probably also help me catch all kinds of dreadful diseases for good measures, but I’m already far beyond the point of caring._

_In the dim light of the fading day I search the wall and eventually find an opening big enough for me to crawl through. I’m embraced by pitch-black darkness, so thorough that it almost seems solid. As my eyes fail to adjust to the absence of light, I take a box of matches out of the pocket of my pants. I’m about to strike a match, when I hear voices mingled with laughter and fearful cries somewhere close._

_I freeze._

_For a tsygan stray like me it’s healthier to stay underneath the radar of certain people. Streets in this part of town are a fucking warzone, especially after curfew. Too damn easy to catch a bullet in the head or knife between the shoulder blades. But I’ve never been good at keeping my ass out of trouble, and I’m far too nosy to resist to find out what’s going on._

_It doesn’t take me long to locate the source of the noise that has caught my attention. As soon as I see the flickering bright orange reflection of a fire on the concrete walls, I slow down and sneak over to the gate that leads from the broad passageway into a vast assembly hangar._

_A metal staircase leads up to a gallery that surrounds the whole of the hall at half height. Silent as a cat I tiptoe up the stairs to procure a better view of the scenery. What I see when I look down, makes the blood in my veins grow cold._

_Six coarse men stand around the fire. All of them wearing leather jackets with insignias that identify them as members of the Lobotiev Brotherhood, the local Bratva gang._

_But that isn’t what makes my heart pound wildly._

_I swallow hard._

_The boy is about my age, twelve or thirteen, maybe even a bit younger. Small and scrawny with glossy black hair framing his delicate face. He is staring at me with grey eyes wide open in terror and disbelief. Desperately he tries to keep his balance on a wobbly stack of crates, a taut sling around his neck that forces him to get up on his tiptoes in order to not strangle himself. “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. “Fuck….fuck…”_

_Those eyes set on me, piercing even at such a distance, keep me glued to the spot even as my mind screams for me to run. To abandon this kid, it’s no concern of mine, the last thing I want to do right now is give the damned bratva a reason to have a grudge._

_But still, I sit there, limbs tense in a crouch, trying to formulate a plan of rescue … I can’t just leave this kid in the lurch, not after all I’ve been through myself… I know that if I were in that boy’s place, I’d be mentally on my hands and knees, begging for any kind of miracle to save me from the certain death tied around my neck._

_My eyes flick over the men again. Six of them in plain sight. My eyes search the dark corners of the room for anyone hiding, nearly pointless with the dimmed flicker of flame being the only thing barely illuminating the walls of the vast place. But I can’t see any other shadows._

_Something else catches my eye: Two large double doors on the far side of the room, and next to those, large garage doors that would’ve been used to ship out produced goods. There is a switch to the side, and next to that… crane controls. My eyes flick up to the crane, noticing a rather large payload that is still tethered there. If I can get to the control panel, then maybe a distraction might give me enough time to free the boy and slip out of sight._

_“What the hell am I even doing,” I mutter under my breath as I hastily make my way across the catwalk, being just delicate enough with my footing to remain silent. I manage to cross the room and exit the metal stairs that are just across from the control panel. Quickly, quietly I move towards them, glancing over my shoulder frequently to make sure the men are still occupied with their sick little game._

_My hand hovers over the red button that will release the tether from the crane’s giant claw. Hesitation grips me. They’ll probably have weapons. “Fuck,” I hiss again, before slamming both hands down on the button and garage door opener, then turning tail to run back to the stairs before the load’s heavy fall reverberates through the entire complex._

_I manage to make it halfway up before it does. I hear shouts from the men, three of the six whipping their heads in that direction, hands flying beneath jackets to grasp their weapons as they exchange startled and angry orders in Russian._

_“Shit, what the hell? I thought you said we’re alone!”_

_“Fuck you, we were! Those Blutliga-fuckers must’ve caught onto us somehow … damn shits!”_

_The Blutliga… A German rival gang – Russians and Germans constantly fighting for dominance in the slums of Colony Five …  The three men on alert scurry to cover the door and investigate, while the other three … they’re backing away now. Securing the other entrances, I guess._

_The boy is still tethered there, but now the question is how I can get him down._

_“Fucking waste of my damn time!” The shout of one of the brothers is followed by a loud gunshot in the boy’s direction, shattering the fragile crate he’s just barely managing to stand on. He falls with a startled yelp, the rope pulling sickeningly taut as he hangs there, suspended only by the length around his neck._

_“Fuck!” I break into a run on the catwalk, eyes darting to and fro, trying to find what the rope is secured to – a rickety-looking, rusted-out walkway that goes between the two running parallel by the walls. I swallow as I creep towards it._

_I can hear the boy struggle for breath violently, even over all the noise surrounding us. Time is slipping through my fingers. I have to do something. Now! The kid will lose his desperate struggle any minute._

_There’s no way I can hoist the kicking body up the walkway. So, there’s only one thing left I can do. I take a deep breath and pull the knife out of my right boot. The blade is so blunt that I have to use it like a saw and apply all pressure I can muster. But the goddamn rope is thick, and the boy’s movements are getting weaker and weaker. His gasps for breath sound so painful it hurts to listen to them. I double my efforts. Cold sweat is running down my forehead, making my eyes sting._

_I’m almost through._

_Almost through._

_The boy’s completely limp now. And, even worse, he’s gone dead-silent._

_No, no , no, no, NO!_

_The rope snaps with a sharp hiss, eventually. For the blink of an eye, time seems to stand still. Then, all of a sudden, the boy’s falling and crushing onto the cold concrete with a sickening sound._

_I set into motion almost immediately. As fast as I dare, I crawl backwards until I reach the catwalk. I hurry down the stairs with frantic speed. When I finally reach the crumpled body on the floor, I pick him up without bothering to check for the kid’s pulse. There’s no time for that with the Lobotiev brothers returning any second. Fortunately the little brat’s as light as a feather, so I can just throw him over my shoulder and head back into the dark passageway._

_I can’t believe that we really make it outside unhindered; through the crack in the wall, into the light of the slowly setting sun._

_“Hang on”, I gasp, not looking at the dead weight draped over my shoulders, secretly fearing what I’ll see if I do. “Just keep it up for a couple more minutes, kiddo …”_

_We’re not far enough away from the factory building for it to feel even remotely secure when I’m taking cover behind some meager shrubs and carefully set the boy down to the floor._

_It’s the first time I really get to seem him. Eyes closed, skin ashen-grey. Doesn’t look good. Shit, shit, shit!_

_“C’mon”, I whisper pleadingly. “Wake the fuck up, goddamnit!”_

_My fingers clumsily fumble for a pulse, jerking back quickly when they’re touching something warm, wet and sticky. Only then I notice the deep ridges the rope has cut into the kid’s neck. They look horrible. Bloody, where the skin has been torn open, swelling and bruising already._

_I position the boy’s head on my lap and lightly smack his cheeks with the palm of my hand. I’m not really expecting him to react, lying there ashen faced and lifeless. So when his eyes suddenly fly open and his whole body convulses when he desperately tries to catch a breath, it almost startles me._

“Nein, Lena! Nein!” _It’s barley audible, more a hiss of thin air than an actual voice. His pupils are dilated to a point, the light grey of his eyes isn’t visible anymore. He looks straight into my face, but it feels as if he’s seeing right through me._ “Bitte! Lasst meine Schwester in Ruhe!”

_ No, Lena! No! Please! Leave my sister alone!_

_He’s kind of sobbing now, while struggling for breath at the same time. It sounds horribly painful. I’ve been growing up in the border area between the Lobotiev and Blutliga ruled parts of town, so I know my fair share of German. Enough at least to understand that he’s pleading for someone to leave his sister alone. Don’t need to be a genius to add everything up. I’d rather not know what happened to the girl. Probably hasn’t been as lucky as her brother – if you really want to call him that._

“Schhhh, _Myshonok_ …,” _I whisper, brushing the hair out of his face._ _Don’t know what else to call him, and he reminds me of a little mouse somehow. One that has almost been killed in a gigantic mouse trap called life._ “Ganz ruhig. Keine Angst, alles wird gut.”

_ “Hush … Calm down. Don’t be afraid. Everything’s going to be alright.”_

_I know it’s a fucking lie. Nothing’s going to be alright. Not for me, not for him, most definitely not for his sister … But what else am I to do than to tell him a goddamn pack of lies? Tell him he truth? That I won’t be able to take him to a hospital for treatment? That I can’t even get him any fucking painkillers?_

_His eyelids start to flutter, he’s passing out again. A hoarse sound escapes the ruins of his throat, then his whole body goes slack. If it wasn’t for his breathing – loud and painful, like shards of glass in a grinder – I’d mistake him for dead. And then, all of a sudden, there is silence._

_“Hey, Myshonok!” I grab him by the shoulders and shake him; slightly at first – harder, when he doesn’t react in any way whatsoever. “Wake the fuck up, for fuck’s sake!”_

_He’s no breathing anymore and I panic. Somehow I know, that this is not, what’s supposed to happen. We are meant to make it out of here together. He’s going to be my best friend, my companion – my shadow. The one I can always rely on. The one who’s never going to let me down. Who’s never going to deny me anything._

_“Don’t you dare, do this to me,” I mutter under my breath, trying to feel for his pulse. “Don’t you dare …”_

_But I already know, all my efforts are pointless._

_He’s dead. He’s …_

 

_*_

 

“Myshonok!” I sit up in my bed with a startled yelp. For a moment I don’t know where I am. Darkness is surrounding me. It’s fucking suffocating me.

“Sacha …?” Ethan’s stirring next to me. He turns around, sneaks his arms around my waist. “Had a bad dream, Baby?”

“It’s nothing,” I say. “Go back to sleep, Ethan.”

He cuddles up against my side and sighs a content little sigh. I rest my chin on the top of his head. His stupid hair is tickling my face. Smells sweet like fucking flowers. Won’t ever admit it to him, but I love the scent of it.

It merely takes him minutes to fall back asleep. Don’t think I’ll be able to again. Don’t think I really want to. Know it’s only been a dream. Aleks didn’t die, then. He and I made it out of The Shambles. Signed up to be fighters for the Alliance. Best decision of my whole life, cause there’s no fucking way I’d have met Ethan otherwise.

Things didn’t turn out as well for Aleks, apparently.

He’s been strangely devoted to me right from the start, don’t know why. It’s not as if I’ve ever treated him like he deserved. Stuck around anyway, content with every little scrap of attention I could spare him. Not that Ethan left very much of me to share …

Fuck, yeah, I love my Myshonok. Always have. Not in the way he’d have wanted me to, for sure. He’s kinda like family to me. Damn pretty as well. Didn’t help him much getting over me that I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Pretty sure I’ve been his first. He sure as fuck wasn’t mine. Shit, I’ve never claimed to be a bloody saint.

Quit screwing him after things got sort of serious with Ethan. Only slept with Aleks one more time, back on the Sleipnir, when he was Deimos and I was Cain. Had had a bad fight with Abel, gotten drunk and fucked Deimos. Wanted to piss Abel off, ended up hurting Aleks instead.

Know I’m a stupid git. Both Ethan and Aleks deserve much better than that. Fuck things up more often than not. Only thing I’ve ever done well is pull Ethan through the war alive and save Aleks.

I suppress a sigh. I know what I am to do now. Shit, it’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my whole life, but there’s no bloody way I let Aleks die. Not without trying every _fucking_ thing I can to save him.

I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Together Aleks and I will find a way to beat this fucking tumor. There’s got to be a cure. There’s just to be. And I’m gonna use this bloody trip to Earth to convince Aleks of that.

I’m not gonna allow him to give up just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of the dream sequence (probably the better ones) are Riko's doing :)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this one is un-beta'd, which means you will probably find tons of weird grammar, stupid sentence structure and misused expressions. Sorry about that, but English is not my first and I still struggle with it a lot. 
> 
> As you've probably figured out by now, I took the freedom to give Deimos a German background. He and Cain both come from the same colony, whose inhabitants are mostly of Russian and German origin. The both speak each other's mother tongue (which is pretty handy, cause I'm German). 
> 
> Names I used for this fics (my favorite fanon-names - thanks to those who created them):
> 
> Cain: Sacha  
> Deimos: Aleks  
> Abel: Ethan  
> Keeler: Hector  
> Encke: James


End file.
